A Bond Unbroken
by NoLongerHidden
Summary: He'd been leaning on the shaded doorway for some time now, watching, listening, as her small body curls itself into the cool sheets. It was unsurprisingly hot in the room – it was summer after all, and the SHIELD helicarrier wasn't exactly known for its heating and cooling system – and beads of sweat had long come and gone at his temple. *Clintasha, One-Shot*


**A Bond Unbroken**

by: NoLongerHidden

* * *

"_We share a bond. We do everything together. We have a piece of strong, invisible thread connecting us. It's indestructible – it can never be broken. The thread is the key item that links us together. We understand each other._" –Erica Sehyun Song

* * *

He'd been leaning on the shaded doorway for some time now, watching, listening, as her small body curls itself into the cool sheets. It was unsurprisingly hot in the room – it was summer after all, and the SHIELD helicarrier wasn't exactly known for its heating and cooling system – and beads of sweat had long come and gone at his temple.

His eyes flickered to the movement of the sheets as her legs gently shifted, the flutter of dark eyelashes matching the stunning scarlet hair; nestled in the bunk, no matter how small it was, was somewhat of a likable past time of hers when he was on a mission or off base for one reason or another. He held back the slightest of laughs – it didn't take much effort, he was tired to the bone – when he saw her nose crinkle in for the slightest second, as if holding back a sneeze, before relaxing again.

His footsteps were quiet as he slid the door firmly closed and quickly crossed the dimly lit room. The bed approached and he paused before it, starting down at her side with the quirk of a smile. She looked so innocent, so naive when she was asleep – at this moment, he could hardly believe that she was one of SHIELD's most deadly agents. But the thought quickly slipped away as he stripped from his uniform and slid in beside his partner dressed only in his boxers.

His arm slinked its way around her tiny waist as he gently moved her body over, making room for himself on the twin cot. Red curls brushed his face as he buried his face in her hair, nose nuzzling the back of her smooth neck, a slight smile coming to his lips for the third time since seeing her since seeing her that night.

It was only a few moments before a voice spoke, almost airily: "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you're Clint; if you aren't, you _clearly _must have a death wish."

He chuckled. "Hey," he murmured softly into her skin. She turned over in his arms, nose almost brushing his. He pulled her against him and her head buried in his shoulder, tension relaxing in both of them.

When Fury had decided to start splitting them up for separate missions after New York they had both protested vehemently, but the director's decision was final – they would be going on separate missions. But that didn't stop them from staying in each other's rooms each night, staying as close as possible.

They lay there, relishing each other's embrace for a few minutes, but he could feel himself slipping into sleep. The pain of his wounds usually faded for some reason when he was around her – it was if she had the power to heal him with her touch.

When he pulled back, head lazily falling onto the pillow, mouth parting to say a goodnight, she had opposite thoughts. She captured his lips with hers, hungrily taking a taste of what hadn't been her's for a few weeks. He responded eagerly and the kiss grew more and more heated as she flipped their position and straddled him. Her nimble fingers had just started making their way down his front when he let out a slight hiss – but she heard it.

She froze, eyes narrowing, and he flinched. He opened his mouth to explain but it was too late; she pulled away from him and stepped across the room, throwing the main light switch.

Eyes winced as the bright light flooded his vision, but it was nothing compared to the rush of slight shame he felt when she caught a glimpse of the large, open wound that lay on his lower abdomen and shot him a harsh look. "Clint," she hissed. "Did you even _stop _by medical?"

He sheepishly shook his head. "Didn't have time," he muttered as a sudden wave of tiredness swept over him. "Want o 'et back and see Tasha."

Her eyes flickered to the place where they normally kept the first aid kit, but it was empty; the kit had run out of supplies a month ago when she'd come back bruised. He'd meant to refill it, but then he had been called on another mission. That didn't matter to her as she scowled, walking quickly past him to the small, standardized dresser and started pulling out two pairs of clothes so they could go to the infirmary: his and hers.

He propped up on his elbow and caught her wrist just as she pulled out the last of the clothes. "Nat, I'm fine," he said, slightly annoyed.

She glared. "No," she said, tone angry. "You're not. You're bruised and blackened and you're baldy injured-" her voice was becoming exasperated with every word and he recoiled slightly at the venom in her words.

"Nat, calm down-"

"Damn it Clint," she hissed. "You asshole, don't you dare tell me to calm down-"

"Why the hell are you so angry? I'm fine, I'll get it looked at in the morning."

He could almost hear her breath caught in her throat and it suddenly hit him why she was acting like this. He tossed his legs over the side of the bed and pulled her flush to his chest. He pulled them both back against the walls and she fought his grasp as he held her between his legs. When he spoke, his voice was low. "The nightmares are back?"

And when she froze, he knew he'd hit the mark. His arms settled on her stomach and she stopped fighting him, leaning back. "Do I die?" he asked hesitantly. A slow nod responded to his question. "Is it Loki?"

He felt something wet drop onto his leg, and it briefly crossed his mind that this was only the second time in their entire partnership he'd seen her cry – the first was the night they first met, a night where she had to make choice: die, or go with him and start anew.

That night was the night that everything changed.

"I'm fine, Tasha," he murmured, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "I'm not going anywhere – not now, not ever." As an afterthought, he added: "I'll go see medical in the morning, if it means that much to you."

She nodded again, and he gently eased them down onto the mattress again, flipped off the light switch near the bed that controlled all the lights, not just the main one. The room was immersed in darkness when:

"Clint?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you really mean that? About staying…forever?"

"Course. You're my partner – I'm not going anywhere. Night Nat, love you."

There was a slight pause, before: "Love you too, Clint."

Even the darkness couldn't hide the smile on his face.

* * *

_The End._


End file.
